


The Dragons Are My Children

by lyn452



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Drinking, Drunkenness, F/M, Married Couple, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 01:47:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21245480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyn452/pseuds/lyn452
Summary: On the way home from a party, Daenerys finds three dragon eggs and brings them home, determined to hatch them. Her husband, Jon, thinks she’s found three rocks and wants his basement back.





	The Dragons Are My Children

Daenerys couldn’t say what drew her to that field that night. Her logical side told her that it had been her drunken brain deciding that her bare feet were less likely to be injured in a field rather than on the road, but some deeper part of her thought it was more than that. 

Her husband, Jon, had not been impressed. “Dany, where are you going? Get back on the road.” Daenerys couldn’t hear it, but she assumed Jon had mumbled something about the crazy woman he’d married, as he always did when he was cross with her.

She couldn’t stay mad at him though. After all, he’d volunteered to carry her high heels as they walked home. He’d even offered to carry her home, but given they had a few miles to walk, she didn’t want to tire out her strong husband. She still had plans for him tonight.

But she had been drawn to that field, to that spot, at that time, and she decided that it must be fate or something like it. Her bare feet were careful to avoid any rocks or twigs, as she walked out into the tall grass. She could almost swear she could hear pulsing, like a heartbeat and as she drew nearer, she could smell burnt embers.

“Dany!” her husband called out again. He wasn’t moving, but she could tell from his tone he was worried. 

Daenerys had stopped. She squatted down, and touched one of the peculiar looking rocks she found. Dragon eggs, her mind supplied, though she had no reason to think nor believe such nonsense. But as she picked up each egg and cradled it to her, the pulsing grew louder and she swore she could feel the heartbeats within the stone.

She could awaken the dragons. Daenerys rose. She could wake the dragons with fire and blood. 

Jon had come in from the road, stomping through the field, the dry grass cracking under his boots. He stopped when she turned to greet him with her smile. “Look what I found,” she said, in awe of her own discovery.

Jon’s eyebrow raised, “Rocks, Dany?”

“Not rocks, Jon. Dragon eggs,” Daenerys cradled them closer to her. 

“Okay,” Daenerys could hear the sigh in her husband’s voice. “What exactly did you and Missandei do shots of at the party?”

“Only Fireball and Rumchata,” Daenerys answered, her eyes still on her newfound treasures. 

“It’s usually Absinthe that makes you loopy,” Jon mumbled. Daenerys pretended not to hear that. Jon looped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you home.” His eyes went to rocks, but he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the fight.

Daenerys cradled her babies to her chest, thinking about how she would bring her dragons to life. She started to babble, “We’ll need a place to keep them, warmer than the garage, but we can’t really keep them in the living room. Too many questions. Someone might steal them.” Her brother was enough of an asshole to pull such a stunt.

Jon was listening, but just nodded along, which Daenerys knew from their years of marriage meant that he was merely humoring her. Normally it bothered her, but just like Jon knew when to indulge his wife, Daenerys knew when to let her husband off the hook. 

“We can put them in the basement.” She decided, shifting the green one, she could more firmly hold the white and gold one.

Jon frowned. “That’s where my brewing kit is.”

“Are you making beer right now?” Daenerys asked, already knowing the answer. 

“No, but that’s not the point. Christmas is just around the corner and I need to brew my special batch of lager. I always bring it. My family is counting on it.”

Daenerys didn’t have the heart to tell her husband that both Ned and Robb secretly didn’t care for his beer. Theon kind of liked it, but Theon kind of liked Bud Light, so what did he know? “There’s room for both. They’ll hatch soon enough.” 

“How do you even know that? They might not even be dragon eggs, you know. They might just be pretty rocks.”

“They are dragon eggs,” Daenerys wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she did.

Jon didn’t say anything more about it. 

* * *

Jon carefully moved the final piece of equipment. He was still a bit put out by Daenerys’ “dragon eggs” taking the place of his mini-brewery, but she promised him they would find another spot for his hobby. And though Daenerys had her faults, she’d never lied to him. If she said they would do something, they did it. 

He still thought this whole thing was mad though. Jon watched her arrange the eggs carefully, having wrapped them in some spare blankets. He could hear Ghost pawing at the basement door, and he thought about going up to play with him while his wife finished her project. 

But Ghost had been desperately interested in Dany’s rocks, and she’d asked Jon to keep the dog away. So Jon left Ghost at the top of the stairs with his curiosity and waited for his wife. 

Daenerys, finished arranging the eggs and their blanket nest, stepped back to look at them. Jon noticed her frown and he wanted to lean forward and take her jutted lip between his teeth. The beer from the party kept telling him how pretty Dany looked tonight and how they should be up in their bedroom right now, not down in this cold basement. But Jon knew if he rushed Daenerys, there would be a good chance he wouldn’t get anything else he wanted from her tonight. So he waited with a patience she always told him she admired in him. 

It felt tested tonight. 

Daenerys looked to the dryer, “Maybe I should warm the sheets in there. Might help.”

Jon wasn’t sure if she was saying to herself or asking him, but he responded, “I think you’ve done enough for tonight, maybe this is a better problem to solve tomorrow.” When she was sober was the unfinished thought. He looked at the rocks again. They were pretty, sure, but clearly his wife would put them in their front landscaping tomorrow, laughing at her drunken foolishness, right?

Daenerys bit her lip, considering for a moment, before she nodded. “You’re probably right.”

Jon reached over and hugged her to him. She hugged him back and turned, tilting her head up. Jon took the invitation and bent down to kiss her. 

He tasted something foul that took him a moment to identify. He pulled back with a frown. “Dany, when did you throw up?”

“At the party before we left,” she looked down, guiltily. Then she looked up with that 1,000-watt smile of hers. “It takes a special kind of man to kiss a woman who’s just puked, Jon Snow,” Daenerys mused. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Jon just chuckled in response. He took her hand and led her upstairs to collect his reward. 

* * *

Daenerys knew she was getting a little obsessed. She knew Jon was getting worried. She knew both of these things, but still, she sat next to her eggs and watched them. She had tried everything she could think to hatch them, warmed blankets, heat lamps, and in one desperate moment, she carefully sat on the damned things.

Thank the gods Jon hadn’t seen that particular low point. He probably would have put the eggs outside and reclaimed his spot in the basement from his new setup in the garage. 

Still, Daenerys could feel the lives inside and she knew there had to be some way to wake the dragons. She just didn’t know how. 

The door to the basement opened and shut carefully. Daenerys knew it was Jon from his soft footsteps and Ghost’s whining outside of the closed door. The dog still kept trying to get down to see the dragon eggs. Daenerys wasn’t sure why, but the same instinct that told her that these rocks were eggs also told her to keep Ghost away.

Jon walked down and leaned against the staircase. Daenerys didn’t bother to turn and look at him. She’d offered to bring a barstool down for him as well, but he’d refused. She knew it was in his nature to worry, but sometimes it was ridiculously annoying. She sighed before she asked, “What is it, Jon?”

“How long are you going to be doing this, Dany?”

Daenerys closed her eyes. “It hasn’t been that long yet.” Two weeks did not a problem make.

“A month? A year? A lifetime? How long, Dany?”

She could hear him move and when she opened her eyes he was kneeling before her. He took one of her hands in between his own. “Why do you care so much?”

Daenerys couldn’t explain it. She knew Jon didn’t believe in much, just family, really, but she believed in more and she believed in herself most of all. Destiny was a tricky thing, but she knew it had something special planned for her. She just knew it. But she also knew that such a belief wasn’t logical, and it wasn’t one her husband would accept. “I think, maybe, I just want something that’s mine.”

“What’s mine is yours,” he said. “That’s what I swore to you in the godswood and I meant it, Dany.”

She smiled at her husband and used her free hand to cradle his face. “I know, love, but I just…” Her eyes darted as she sought the words. “We’re living in your hometown, surrounded by your friends, living with your dog, I just...I want something of my own.”

Jon frowned and it hurt Daenerys to see the sorrowful look. “Are you not happy with me?”

“Of course I’m happy with you Jon. I want more though. If it’s possible, I want more.”

Jon frowned and Daenerys knew he still didn’t really understand; she only hoped that his love for her would carry it through. He studied her for a moment before standing with a nod and a sigh. “Okay, Dany. Okay.”

* * *

Jon watched Ghost run in the first snowfall. His dog loved the winter weather and despite turning into a mess and subsequently turning the house into a mess, Jon never had the heart to stop his dog from his playing outside.

Usually Daenerys would be out here with him, but she was still consumed by her unhealthy obsession in the form of three rocks in the basement. Jon worried for her, but he didn’t know what to do. As long as it didn’t interfere with their lives, he couldn’t very well demand she get rid of the blasted things. And they hadn’t really. At least not in any significant ways. Life moved forward and Dany moved along with it, not missing a beat.

But Jon wasn’t sure where the line was. When did a strange fascination become an unhealthy obsession? He thought about asking Robb, who’d been married longer, but he knew Daenerys wouldn’t appreciate this particular habit of hers being discussed with anyone else. Jon knew it was a secret, even if she hadn’t told him as such. 

Ghost stopped playing suddenly, his head darting to the house. Jon looked to see what had caught the dog’s attention, expecting to find a squirrel, but instead he saw flames in the basement window. “Dany,” Jon cried out, running to the door without thinking.

Ghost followed him, and for the first time, Jon didn’t even try to keep his dog out of the basement. His heavy boots clamoured down the stairs, getting mud and water everywhere, but Jon didn’t care about that either. Daenerys and her safety were the only things on his mind. 

His brain finally caught up with him, and Jon began fishing in his pocket for his cell phone, ready to call emergency services when he was stopped dead in his tracks. 

A mini bonfire had been created in their basement, and Daenerys stood in the middle of it. Her clothes had been burned away, but she stood in the flames, holding her eggs and looking no worse for the wear. Jon didn’t understand, his mind rejecting the impossible sight his eyes were giving him. 

Even more impossible, the eggs began to hatch and dragons rejoined the world of men. Their song was the sweetest thing Jon had ever heard.


End file.
